Shadows
by judalscock
Summary: This is something I put on Tumblr. Allen dies at a young age, but is brought back by three people from the Order as a 'creature of the night'. He hears news about Mana lying in a hospital, and he wishes to see him before he passes. I don't care if it's good or not. I just had this forever. AU Allen's P.O.V.


Dodging the shadows while being one yourself is not an easy way to visit your dying father. I cannot let the Order know where I'm traveling this very night. I've sworn to keep my presence a secret. Only my victims have the privilege to see my face before slipping into oblivion. Once taken in, there was no going back. No more seeing 'friends' from your so called precious childhood. No more visits to your mortal family — if that's what you called my 'family'. No contact what so ever. We're dead to the world, and we'll remain that way till we are no more.

Such a promise is hard to keep. I for one was never held back by some damn rules. I have snuck away from the Order many times to live among the living. I have paid countless mortals countless visits, but never my own family. Mana is to keep believing that I'm dead. He went to my funeral. He watched my body sink into the ground. What he didn't see I'm sure he would've never wanted to see. He didn't witness three others digging me up to reappear as a beautiful creature of the night.

For forty years, these three from the Order taught me where to go, who to see, where to sleep, what to drink, what to love— hate— you get the point. They taught me all the alternatives, but after these little lessons I would sneak away to be with the living. I'd go to local bars, dance clubs, stores, theaters, and various other places I was forbidden to go. I would talk to people, watch them cry, laugh, smile, love, and die.

I'd walk at night away from my brethren to find some whore worthy enough to feed from. Most of the time, these idiots had no purpose but to prostitute themselves. I killed these lustful pigs without the slightest hint of remorse. If you can't enjoy life, and only seek one thing that causes greed, then you don't deserve to live in my book. There are those however, who actually explain to me their purposes. Whether they have a sick child at home and they can't afford treatment, or if they have to pay off their debts, I try to turn their lives around. I respect someone who respects life, but, even so, they have chosen the wrong way to help themselves, and for that I drain them to the point of sickness. They live mind you; they just fall into a deep sleep and I return them to their homes. Those that I kill, I carefully dispose of their bodies or I find their pimps and leave their corpses on the doorstep.

I know my brothers and sisters would be proud, but I'm sure the mortals wouldn't. Pretty soon they'll be searching for Jack the Ripper or El Chupacabra. Can't have that every morning in the papers. My focus for now is to slip away to the hospital my father is lying in. News has gotten out that he has fallen ill and wishes to see me. He wishes for me to be near him. I know this for a simple fact that I have heard his cries in my sleep. I know this in my heart. I feel his pain. He wishes for me—and I'll go. We may not have had a quiet past, but he is still my father. He adopted me when everyone else in world rejected me. He was my first teacher. He fed me, clothed me, sheltered, and protected me. Most of all, he loved me even with the deformed arm. I cannot let that be in vain. He took care of me till he no longer could. I love him for that. I love him.

At my father's hospital I silently seek out his scent. I listen for his heartbeat. I find him. He is alone which is good. With no difficulty, I shape shift into a shadow and glide up into my father's window. I walk over to him giving off no sound. No foot fall. He snored lightly and only one light lit the room to a dim gold. IV's were sprouting from his arms. His face is pale and his time is near. Too many wrinkles covered his handsome features. I touch his cheek lightly and sit on the bed. I look over to the table and see a picture of me. I smiled and turned to him as he w as trying to open his eyes.

"Mana?" I whispered.

He wriggled his head and fluttered his eyes. I smile down at him. He became transfixed. I knew he was trying to find words. I waited patiently for him to say something. Tears came out of his eyes.

"Are you an angel? Cause you always were." Mana said in a hushed tone as I cupped his hand in mine.

"Am I dreaming?" He said in a hoarse tone.

I nodded. "Yes, Mana. You're dreaming."

"Well I want to speak anyway." I nodded waiting for him to continue. "I've always loved you, Allen. I hope you know that. You were my little boy. I— I know we had our differences, but I just want you to know that I never hated you like the rest of the world. I always blamed myself for your death. I never hated you though. I never hated you. Do you believe me?" Mana pleaded.

"Yes, yes I believe you." I spit out as I tried to hold back my tears.

"Do you know that I love you?" Mana choked out through the tears that were forming again.

"Yes." I sniffed.

"Was I a bad father?" He proclaimed.

"No," I ran my hands through his coarse gray hair. "You never were. You were a father and I was your son."

Mana closed his eyes and nodded. "I think I want to wake up now." He patted my hand. "I love you, Allen." And just like that, Mana flat-lined. I knew the nurses would be in here soon, but I cried. I kissed his hand. I kissed his head. I kissed his mouth.

"I love you too, father." I let the tears fall. "So much."

* * *

**Thanks for actually taking your time out of whatever you were doing to read! I really appreciate it!**

**-bethanie  
**


End file.
